


We Are The Same

by lostlilac



Series: Destinies Intertwined [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blackmail, Dark Spock, Dom Spock, Everyone Has Issues, Forced Bonding, Human Jim, Human racism, Humiliation, Manipulation, Poor Jim, Possessive Spock, Punishment, Spock is Captain, Sub Jim, Threats, Vulnerable Jim, dominant spock, human hybrids, submissive jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlilac/pseuds/lostlilac
Summary: Jim is promoted to First Officer, and transferred to the USS Enterprise. While most would consider it a celebratory event, everyone knows the rumours of an emotionally compromised Captain. And God knows humans aren't welcome. '"If you think you can manipulate me in anyway, Mr. Kirk, you are sorely delusional," the Vulcan rumbled, deep voice honeyed with the unusual influence of emotion. "I have, am and always will be in control. Especially over a fragile creature such as yourself.'"





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Well, welcome to my tiny piece of Hell. I apologise in advance for making this. Anyway, there's some pretty heavy-handed themes in this story which will be tagged in each chapter accordingly. Please read them carefully before proceeding. Don't like, don't read. It's going to be pretty messed up, so you can't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy. Please give me feedback on what went right and wrong, and most importantly: If you want more. Thanks again!

“C’mon, Jimmy! Aside from the obvious… this’ll be awesome for you! A new opportunity, and all that motivational shit.” Bones managed to slur out, the stale stench of vodka creeping between the two friends.  
  
Jim couldn’t help but let out a throaty laugh, equally as intoxicated as his friend. Jim motioned for the young woman for another two shots, a steadily goofy grin crawling across his face.  
  
“I think you’ve had one too many, old man,” Jim finally quipped, glazed eyes raking seductively across the bartender that kept glancing his way.  
  
To be honest, he was too shitfaced to see her face properly, but she had long, tanned legs... and the type of high heels that clinked over any music. It seemed to be enough for his woozy mind.  
  
“Besides, I would hardly call it an opportunity,” Jim went on after Bones started staring. He had to at least maintain that he wasn’t devouring the woman with his eyes. His best friend would go off it again, no doubt. “That’s why we’re doing this, right?” Jim said with a grin, sloshing his vodka everywhere with the gesture. Bones barked out a scornful laugh, downing another shot without waiting for Jim. To be fair, he was a reformed alcoholic. He could probably drink the whole goddamn bar without Jim realising.  
  
“To Hell with that. We’re doing this because we wanted to, you drunk piece of shit.”  
  
As ever, Bones could read his mind. Although he wasn’t technically right, at least not this time. He wanted to quell the gnawing feeling of nausea inside his stomach, since he got the ‘good news’ nearly a week ago. Jim was a pilot in the USS Bradbury, and was recognised for the ‘tremendous courage in the face of certain death’ during his last mission. As reward, Jim was promoted to First Officer. That wasn’t the bad news, obviously. It was the last step towards Jim’s dream of being a Captain, and the prospect of having a new position- if anything- made Jim the happiest he had been since the mission. But, with it came a catch which was almost to be expected, considering the trend of bad luck Jim seemed to carry.  
  
Jim caught himself before the dread had a chance to grown more. Even the mention of his transfer turned his stomach inside out.  
  
“I’ll drink to that,” Jim said without missing a beat, clinking his newly refilled drink with Bones’.  
  
A comfortable silence rested between the best friends, as the burning liquid ran its course through Jim’s body. The young man was perfectly content to watch the bartender who may or may not have winked at him, and the song which may or may not have changed. Jim was way too far gone to keep track of such things, and instead forced himself to enjoy the lull of the club music for a few, blissful moments of thoughtlessness.  
  
“Listen, Jim,” Bones finally spoke up, his sincere eyes trained intensely on his emptied glass.  
  
Jim groaned at that, realisation crossing his sluggish mind. A drunken Bones was about to try and get personal with Jim. While Jim usually savoured such intimate and needed wise conversations with his best friend, normally it was only Bones who went this far with the drink when initiated them. They were the perfect example of opposites, and sometimes Jim simply needed a rational voice to guide him though a haze of recklessness. But Jim normally had the brain cells to think things through in these situations. At the moment, it was all he could do not to fall asleep on the table from a sudden bout of dizziness.  
  
“This promotion, it genuinely is really good. Like, it’s easy to see how hard you’ve worked to get here, you know?” Behind the expected slur, there was something honest and warm in the way he spoke to Jim. “So… don’t let one thing get you down. If you work with the passion you’ve always had, then you’ll be transferred soon enough for that shithole.”  
  
Jim felt his chest swell in gratitude toward his best friend, but the words that came out instead were oddly defensive.  
  
“The Enterprise is my favourite ship, and it’s not at all a shithole. It’s just… the people that work on it.”  
  
“More like person.”  
  
Jim couldn’t argue with that, quickly downing what he knew would be one of the first of many shots.   


* * *

  
  
_Jim couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, and for the first time since the mission, he was positively glowing. There was a skip in his step he couldn’t deny, and even with the formal stiffness of his full uniform, he managed to take literal leaps of joy down the stretches of corridors._  
  
_This was it. This was finally it. Jim was about to be promoted, and earn the respect he so dearly worked for._  
  
_He remembered almost monotonically how he was debased to something so low._  
  
_Since more exotic and profoundly intelligent alien species slowly dominated Federation Planets, humans were quickly deemed as ‘an inferior species’ in comparison to their typically brilliant physical and mental abilities. The Vulcans were the ringleaders behind it all. Their race found it only 'logical' that superior species governed the Federation. It was only a matter of time before the Federation was overrun. It was a fast process on the inside, solely from a balance of manipulation and traitorous humans. Most despicably was Admiral Markus, who assassinated numerous human leaders within the Federation for their corrupted motivation._  
  
_They were attacked without preamble._  
  
_An advanced gas attack which was potent enough to spread across all countries was adjusted to kill anyone who was young, old and injured. Only the fittest survived._  
  
_That was why it was a mystery Jim was still alive. He was 10 at the time of attack, and literally fell asleep at the wheel of his stepdad’s antique car. The gas was odourless, but Jim could still feel its effects almost instantly. His limbs went numb, and an impatient burning thrummed loudly within his head. It hurt so much, enough for Jim to black out. Enough to know he was dying._  
  
_Yet he woke up at the side of a cliff, relatively unharmed, with tears running down his face. Something within him had changed that day, and the sinking feeling of dread was something Jim never wanted to repeat._  
  
_His head had hurt with something unrelated to falling._  
  
_And when Jim went into that room of good memories with a beaming Pike, who was basically a father to him now, to hear of the details of his reward, that same feeling of dread resurfaced at the name of his new Captain._  
  
  
Spock.   


* * *

  
The thudding bang in Jim’s head shouldn’t have been surprising, but he groaned in pain as if it was his first time getting wasted anyway. Even tucked in the plush bed of the Starfleet academy, his head and back were rigid with pain, a putrid smell filling his nostrils. It took Jim way too long to realise it was his own breath. With a grimace of disgust, Jim shakily hauled himself out of bed, trying to adjust to the sudden vertigo of the spinning white room. Jim breathed through it, fists clenched in a warranted self-loathing.  
  
_Christ, Jim. You get wasted on the night before the start of your new position. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Are you that spineless that you can’t deal with your own feelings without resorting to… that? You’re going to get in so much trouble if they find out, and-_  
  
“Incoming transmission,” a bland voice interrupted, pulling Jim out of his reverie.  
  
Taking a moment to compose himself, Jim glanced up at the computer.  
  
“Who from?”  
  
“An anonymous call from Doctor Leonard McCoy, who specialises in the medical science of-“ Jim pinched his nose, and he could barely stop himself from snapping at the Computer for its need to express every bit of information.  
  
“Yes, yes. Allow with voice only.” Jim went about brushing his teeth as Bones started to talk. He expected the sultry, quiet tone of a moodily hungover Bones. It was hard not to swallow the minty paste as Bones practically screamed through the computer.  
  
“Where the fuck are you, Jim?!”  
  
“Jesus, Bones! I’m too hungover for a lecture right now.” Jim managed to choke out, still clinging to the sink in shock.  
  
“Jim, I’ve been trying to get through to you for half an hour or so. It’s 15 minutes until we report for duty!”  
  
Now Jim clung to the sink for an entirely different reason.  
  
“It… it’s not.” Was his weak denial. But sure enough, his automated alarm read the exact time of 5:45am. The very sight made Jim’s nostrils flare in panic, and he froze to the spot in an unadulterated fear.  
  
“I don’t have time to give you that hypo for hangovers. Just do it the old fashion way, and take a couple of painkillers… if you rush you’ll be just in time.” Bones’ warm voice should’ve held that tone of coaxing promises, but the obvious worry in each word made it become all too clear what situation Jim was in.  
  
It was as if a switch had just been flipped, and Jim couldn’t throw himself fast enough at his standard wardrobe.  
  
_Tunic, boxers, trousers, socks, shoes; cap…_  
  
Each thought was frantic and quickly processed- Jim couldn’t find the patience to check himself over afterwards. He had his uniform on, which was sure as shit the best he could do. Jim tried to pat down the mayhem that was his hair, but all he could do was tame a few rebel spikes. With an exasperated grunt, he gave a quick flash towards his clock -5:54am- and practically ran out the door.  
  
From where he was positioned, it would take around 5 minutes at a sprint to make it to the launch room. If he was lucky, Jim would make it literally on the dot. But when was he ever lucky? It was almost as if he was soaring through the air- he was aware of all the stares from people who actually had their lives together- but he couldn’t find the energy to care about anything but running faster. His vision became progressively blurred with panic, the futuristic corridors a blur of tinted silver.  
  
Finally, Jim was forced to come to a halt when he collided into what felt like a chest made of boiled iron. It was stupid of him to not keep his eyes forward, and Jim instantly regretted his clumsiness with the splitting headache that came with it. It almost burned just to touch whoever it was, even with the thick layer of fabric between both of them. A prickle of fear went up his spine at that. Whatever it was surely could not human.  
  
The reaction of the perhaps alien was instantaneous, and not even half a beat after Jim recollected his thoughts was he held back by the armpits, with a grip which would be sure to leave bruises. Jim tried to hide a wince, using what little dignity he had left to look up to his newest enemy.  
  
He almost startled back at his appearance, pure terror pumping in his blood.  
  
He was Vulcan. There was no denying it. He stood a couple of inches taller than Jim, dark bangs spread squarely across the middle of his pale forehead. Despite the odd bowl cut, he was all angles and stern, definitive features. Just as beautiful as they say Vulcans are. But there was something cold and calculating in the way he sized Jim up, unyielding brown eyes picking him apart inch by inch. Jim wouldn’t be surprised if he could see into his very soul.  
  
“Sorry, Sir,” Jim mumbled dryly, praying that would be enough. His penetrating stare felt like daggers on Jim’s face. He dared not look into those eyes again.  
  
“I wasn’t aware Starfleet still recruited inept humans,” the Vulcan eventually said emotionlessly, as if Jim hadn’t spoke, but the man was smart enough to pick up the seething rage behind the natural façade of the alien. Jim’s temper flared at that, and roughly pulled his arms out of the Vulcan’s grasp.  
  
He had a suspicion he only got free from the stone figure’s grip simply because the alien _allowed_ it. Everyone knew of Vulcan strength, and the fact they were about x3 more physically superior to humans certainly wasn’t an advantage for Jim. But dammit if he’d made his way painstakingly through all the ranks to be insulted by a complete stranger, and Vulcan or not he was not taking that.  
  
“A human _Commander_ ,” Jim corrected, drawing himself up to try to level at the Vulcan’s eye height. “James T. Kirk, and you’d better not put your hands on me again, unless you’re asking for trouble.” He tried to make his voice as intimidating as possible, but the sudden glint in the alien’s eye made his subconscious shrink away. Technically he wasn't a Commander until he was on duty for the first time, but there was no way he was telling the smug bastard that.  
  
“It raises many ethical questions why a human has the authorisation to be promoted to Commander of any vessel,” the Vulcan answered without another breath, eyes trained on Jim with an impossible focus, as if searching for the lie on his face. “Be assured, it will be something I shall further investigate.” Shit, shit, shit. What the hell does that even mean?  
  
_If he looks at my files, he’ll find out everything. How I got in. Who helped me._ _What I am…_  
  
“However, seeing as my rank surpasses yours both racially and professionally, I would demand more respect from a lesser species such as yourself.” Jim couldn’t draw in another breath as the Vulcan’s shadow grew dramatically with his growing height, brown eyes darkened with an emotion Jim couldn’t recognise. “I am Captain Spock of the Enterprise, human.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim learns the consequences of becoming Spock's First Officer. And the rules that come with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am not satisfied with this chapter, but I have to go away for a week to somewhere with NO wifi (feel my pain), so I had to rush this to do the boring stuff (revision, namely) while I'm away. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Leave a comment, kudo and all the good stuff if liked. Thanks for reading!

Jim couldn't describe the absolute chill running down his spine, pink lips pursed in a frozen shock. Spock did nothing but raise an eyebrow, his stoicism hiding whatever he actually felt about the situation. Surely... he knew? The Vulcan Captain would definitely get details about the transferal for a new Commander. Spock would've had to show his approval before anything was set in stone, anyway. Jim had no idea where he stood with the Vulcan, and the alien's stern mask certainly gave away no clues.

At first, nothing was said. The two stood glowering at each other, as if a forced eye contact would somehow encourage the other one to melt where they stood. It was, naturally, the Vulcan who was first to speak up.

"I specifically requested a Human Hybrid for the position of Commander," Spock near snarled, an obvious fury brewing in his tone. It took all Jim had not to recoil from what his body told him was a predator. "But judging by your slouched stance, vivid eye colour and clear insolence, there was obviously a mistake."  
  
Of course. Damn Human Hybrids. After the gas attack episode, those deemed good enough for a new society were captured, and injected with a serum that tortuously changed the human body. Anyone who was injected changed within a few minutes. Their personalities, once bubbly and brightly filled with something which could only be described as the individual person, was twisted into something the aliens badly required.   
  
Bland loyalty.  
  
Something which tied them to their creators, and cursed them with abilities no mere human could possess. Strength, a frightening intelligence, the quick ability to heal from any disease or injury... the list went on. But with all of it, they had about as much uniqueness as a zombie, and simply could not do anything obey their superiors. There were rumours that the other side of them was mixed with a cocktail of Vulcans and Romulan, but Jim placed no trust in something as farfetched as that. Apparently the serum also forced the actual person to be trapped in their own mind, and Jim could imagine nothing worse.  
  
But something else made Jim flinch in shock. The bastard had already figured out his records were fake, by the looks of it. But instead of a warranted fear, Jim felt an overwhelming need to prove Spock wrong on his 'rudeness', yet a retort had already made its way to his tongue.   
  
"Like that says anything. Besides, why can't a human become Commander? There are many advantages, something you _Vulcans,_ " Jim spat the word as if it were poison. "Seem to forget."

Somehow, the Vulcan stood up straighter at Jim's protests, a black shadow swallowing half of Jim's torso.   
  
"Humans are belittling creatures, with tedious tendencies and a predictably low amount of intelligence. They react recklessly to situations that require logic, and act impulsively on something as primitive as a feeling." The Vulcan droned on tonelessly like an old lecturer reading from a book. Jim could tell they were automated words.  
  
"If you hate them so much, why ask for a Human Hybrid?" Jim replied instantly, fists clenched at the blatant insults fired at him. But he had to control his temper; prove this pointy eared bastard wrong. "They are half of _that_ , after all."  
  
Jim swore he saw the start of a smirk on Spock's face- which was by far the most disturbing thing he'd saw so far- but it vanished as quickly as it came. Jim dismissed it to being his imagination. Vulcans did not feel.  
  
"An astute question, Mr. Kirk," Spock observed, pale features just as stern in 'reward' as they were in preparing an insult. "... With a predictable answer. It has the appearance of favouritism to give significant positions to more developed races. Using Human Hybrids as my employees portrays me as open-minded and gives me a needed quality expected in every Starfleet Captain."   
  
Jim's stomach sank lower and lower with each word, and it was as if everything horrible about Vulcans was being checked off in his mind. _Racist, check. Arrogant, check. Egotistical, check. Soulless, check. Manipulative, check. Conniving, check. Bat crap crazy, check._ It was as if everything was processed robotically in the other’s mind, like a map to achieving something humanely impossible.  
  
“And what is that quality?” Jim managed to numbly say, nails digging too far into the skin of his palm.   
  
Somehow, the Vulcan stood even closer, hawk-like nose only an inch away from Jim’s. There was something maniacal in those emotionless eyes, something which made Jim take a step back. The Vulcan looked like he was close to smirking again, a dark glee spreading across his features at Jim’s obvious weakness. It was progressively becoming a game of cat and mouse as Spock took another step forward.

“Dominance. Control over my crew and… submission from those below me.”

Jim couldn’t breathe when the Vulcan’s breath washed over him, as sweet and deadly as one would expect from such a deceptive hunter.

“It makes for a perfect combination to calm others, Mr. Kirk,” Spock said slowly, articulating every word with a growing smirk. “Especially those like you who thrive from danger.”

If Jim was in his right mind, he’d question why the Vulcan was expressing his emotions so… openly. Some people had never seen Vulcans pull one facial expression. But, all Jim could do was somehow keep on his feet, his core clenching pleasantly as the alien got closer. The breath transferred into his ear, making Jim slip an accidental groan of desire.

“Be made fully aware, James, I am the most frightening predicament you’ll ever deal with.”  
  
With that, the Captain turned heel, nose upturned like Jim wasn’t even there anymore. Perhaps he wasn’t to the Vulcan when he was no longer a person of interest. But a causal call from the distance made Jim jump properly out of his haze.

“Report to the shuttle immediately, Mr. Kirk.”  
  
_God, that pointed eared bastard had me speechless. And… did he just call me James?_  
  
This was going to be a very long day.

-

His first few hours on the Enterprise passed -much to his surprise- uneventfully. His attempts to avoid Spock proved fruitful, and Jim knew it was probably only because ‘first days’ were undeniably busy. With the offhanded glances he did shoot at Spock, he was signing some PADD or another, or intensely involved in some kind of conversation with the crew. Other than the initial introduction to the rest of the crew, Jim was treat like someone who could have worked there 30 years. He was throwing his advice left and right to eager apprentices, and his brain was not working past the point of delving into all the years of training knowledge he had.   
  
Only once had Spock acknowledged him during the day.

_The walk through the corridors of the Enterprise for the first time should have been awe-inspiring, but instead of the admiration that had been pent-up since he was a child, an all-consuming trepidation weighed Jim’s feet like lead._

_He had no idea what to expect. Spock clearly was not thrilled about Jim being human, and a position as important as Commander would not go past unnoticed._

_Entering the bridge was about as nerve-wracking as one would expect, but the weight of all the Hybrids’ stares on him did not baud well. Worst of all, the Captain seemed to be waiting for an ambush. His natural glare went instantly to Jim from near the elevator, tall form ramrod in stiff formality._

_“Gentlemen, your attention please.”_

_Although the words weren’t necessarily demanding, every one of the crew looked up almost instantly, their eyes bowed down slightly from Spock’s imposing stance. It sent a shiver down to Jim’s very core. How much power did this Vulcan have over the crew?_  
  
“This is our newly promoted Commander, Mr. James T. Kirk. As you have no doubt worked out- Mr. Kirk is not a hybrid like the rest of you, but indeed purely human. There will be no special allowances for his… difference. That being said, humans are irrationally emotional creatures and if he is to make a mistake of any kind in his current position, any one of you have permission to bring him to me for further discussion.”  
  
Jim had hardly blinked through all the speech, but he found himself chafing the wounds in his palms, just so there was something to feel other than the anger that was building at the blatant racism. But Spock didn’t bat an eye, although Jim suspected he could deduce that much, even if he was just in the Vulcan’s peripheral vision.  

_“Yes, Captain,” came the mechanical reply, although Jim could see the earnest surprise in their eyes. So from that, hybrids could feel… maybe it just worked differently to humans._

_There was a pause, and Jim couldn’t help but look over at Spock. The alien’s eyes were menacingly darker, and Jim wondered idly if the Hybrids felt fear too._

_“He is my responsibility, and mine alone. No one is to say anything about Mr. Kirk’s definitive race past the Enterprise. If anything is told, you’ll have me to answer to. Clear?”_

_“Yes, Captain.”_

_A begrudging surprise and gratitude welled up in Jim’s chest. Was Spock… trying to protect him?_

_But Jim refused to believe it. There was something about the alien which was… definitely off, somehow. But it was in such a way that Jim couldn’t deny the warmth building in his chest._  
  
Spock waved a hand offhandedly, apparently done with his conversation. 

_“Dismissed.”_  
  
-  
“Kommander?”  
  
“Um, what, yes?”  
  
Jim couldn’t help but out of his daydream, face to face the man that was introduced as ‘Chekov’. Although Jim could hardly call him a man, and already an endearment was forming for the sweet boy. Other than the cloudy iris in his left eye, Jim would not have guessed he was a Hybrid. He seemed to have a working sense of humour, and an innocent generosity in his every gesture.

“Sorry to have surprizzed you, Kommander. The Keptin has asked you to report for Alpha Sheeft for the last hour.”  
  
“Thank you, Chekov,” Jim said sincerely, returning his PADD to a desk for an engineer to pick up. “Any advice to survive with the Captain?” It was supposed to come out jokingly to calm his frazzled nerves, but instead the sentence slipped out in a desperate, hoarse tone.

The boy said nothing, curls hiding his downturned face. Suddenly, the threat of a ‘conversation’ with Spock was becoming more real with every second.

“My apologies, Ensign, I-“  
  
“Nonono, Kommander!” Chekov yelped, surprising Jim enough to keep quiet. “I am just not used to such… how do you say- humeen expressions,” the boy explained, his Russian accent somehow getting thicker with his intensity. “It iss… good to have someone on-board with such an abileetie.”

Jim cleared his throat of the sudden lump, having no idea how to sincerely thank Chekov. He was the first decent person he’d met on this ship, and he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in for it to last.   
  
Perhaps Chekov saw the gratitude in his eyes, because he barely let out a hitch before continuing.

“As for the Keptin, well…” Chekov’s natural eye colour was almost as transparent as the clouded one, and it somehow made his hesitance all the more noticeable. “He is a wery… strict man. His discrimination against humans is natural with hiiss race, of course, but… perhaps he was persuaded my your- pardon the expression, Sir- disarming charm.”

Jim smiled sweetly at the now blushing Ensign, his adorable face somehow cuter in embarrassment. He couldn’t help but tease the young man, even if the comment was just a statement on his part. Jim was not a vain man- but recognised his prettiness enough to use it to his advantage. Nothing more than that, really.

“Is that an invitation?” Jim tried to say it casually, but the distracting rumbling in his tone was enough to make a passer-by blush.

The stuttering on Chekov’s part was priceless, his cheeks burning a dark red.   
  
“N-no, Sir… I mean, yes, you’re b-rilleetent, but I’m not-“  
  
“Ensign, have you located Mr. Kirk?”  
  
A stern voice from the depths of Chekov’s pocket seemed to interrupt their heated conversation, and Jim couldn’t help but grin cheekily when he recognised the dark tone.

“Erm- yyes, Keptin, ve are our way.”

“I do not any tardiness, Ensign. Of course, you already knew this. For every minute you delay the Commander, it is another minute in The Bed,” Spock stated coolly, his tone going down an octave at the mention of the mysterious words.

Jim was bemused at the meaning, but if the sudden paleness on Chekov’s face was anything to go by, it could not be anything good.

“Spock out.”

The sudden cut off in transmission was somehow deafening in the silence of the room, the terseness of their situation screamingly obvious.

“Chekov, I-“  
  
Without another word, the Russian spun on his heel, hand and hand with Jim. He was tugging at it silently, but the urgency in the action was obvious.   
  
Jim wondered if it looked in any way romantic to the passing figures of the crew. To Jim, it was just an innocent impatience he couldn’t deny the sweet boy, who had become scarily distressed at Spock’s words.

_Where have I heard those words before… The bed. The bedthebedthebedthebed… Shit!_  
  
Jim’s eyes widened in realisation, tugging Chekov back with a strength he didn’t know he possessed.

“Is that… is that that torture incubator thing?”  
  
He couldn’t manage to add anything smarter to that, already sick to the stomach in an undisguised horror. Spock punished his crew with something like that- for such a minor offense? It was Jim’s fault too, all his own fault, and he refused for the Ensign to be tortured in a way that prisoners would be for just trying to _help_ Jim.

“Yyes, Kommander,” Chekov said without pausing, an emotionless mask covering the fear Jim knew to be hiding inside. Perhaps this was the emotionless thing people said Hybrids had. Maybe it was as simple as turning a feeling on and off.  “But you need not worry. You won’t be puneeshed for something which wasn’t your fault. I am deeply sorry, Kommander, for my insolence.”

They resumed their near sprint, and Jim was mystified to why he still ran with the shock that went through him.

“It isn’t your fault!” Jim near yelled, almost cursing himself in self-loathing. “It was my fucking fault for talking about something which had no relevance- and it’s his damn fault for being such a DAMN FUCKING SADIST!”  
  
“Speak quietly, Kommander,” Chekov hissed, and Jim knew that was the nearest the kid could ever get to anger. “Ve are nearing the Control Room.”

Before Jim to shout again in protest, about how he didn’t give a _shit_ if Spock heard him, the elevator doors opened, and with it a window to his soul.   
  
The Captain was clearly waiting for them- eyes near black with a blatant fury, and they tunnelled through Jim as if he was as transparent as the glass behind him.  
  
But what was even more terrifying was the loud growl rumbling from Spock’s throat, and Jim felt his hand being ripped away from the Ensign as if it were on fire. Oh. They were still holding hands, apparently. In Jim’s blind terror, he’d definitely forgotten.

“Ensign, follow the guards, if you would be so _kind_.” The Vulcan snarled his last words, and watching through narrowed eyes as Chekov was led away by two men without complaint.   
  
It took all Jim had to speak up, his throat irrationally burning in fear.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Jim managed, keeping his eyes down. “I-“  
  
“Listen to me, very, _very_ carefully, Mr. Kirk,” Spock interrupted, body nearly prone against Jim’s in a flash. Jim could barely breathe as Spock encircled his wrists with long fingers, keeping them firmly locked in front of him. Everything Jim was, was exposed to Spock in a heartbeat. Dark eyes bored into Jim’s mercilessly, and it seemed impossible to break away from his fastening glare.  
  
“You are _mine._ You are part of me crew now, and will follow my orders without question. You will not talk or move without a direct order from _me_. And you certainly won’t engage in social pleasantries, knowing I have _demanded_ your attention. You are supposed to gain my total trust before becoming a part of this crew. Clearly I _misjudged_ your apparent intellect.”  
  
With that, Spock tugged Jim violently, his nose literally millimetres away from the Captain’s. It reminded him much of the first encounter with the Vulcan, with that same, intimidating possessiveness obvious in the alien’s eyes. Jim couldn’t help but let out a small squeak of surprise, forcibly having to keep the alien’s angry stare.   
  
“Keep your eyes up and mouth shut,” Spock snapped, his tone brimming with an impatience Jim was becoming familiar with.   
  
It was only then Jim realised his mouth was gaping open like a fish, and crashed his jaw together instantly. It was difficult to look into the Captain’s imposing glare, but tried his best anyway. God knows what he would do if Jim didn’t comply.

If Jim thought he was getting praise for that, he was obviously wrong. The Vulcan’s features were as stern as ever, although his anger seemed to be subsiding slightly. The warmth of his brown eyes were not distinct yet, but at least they weren’t pitch black.

“I will concede that you did not know the rules when you misbehaved. However, as First Officer you should have a natural desire to help your Captain in whatever he needs. A quality you clearly lack.”  
  
Jim sniffed, heart thudding with fear at the prospect of being punished. Unknowingly, he had disappointed the Captain. But like Hell if he cared. The alleged ‘Captain’ was a confirmed control freak and sadist. Something Jim would not easily forget.

“It is logical,” Spock admitted, staring down thoughtfully at Jim. “Your emotional tendencies are certainly more impudent than most humans. Therefore, a punishment would be the most effective solution to subdue your primitive instincts.”

Without another word Spock spun around, his smart shoes clapped against the floor in decisive steps, as if he expecting Jim to follow him.

Jim ground his teeth together, but persuaded himself that the couldn’t afford the Vulcan to be angry again if he didn’t follow.  
  
Slowly, unwillingly, Jim followed suit, taking quiet steps toward the elevator. The rest of the crew’s eyes were burning into Jim’s back, and he could practically feel the sympathy coming off in waves.

“Sulu, you have the conn,” Spock called, not waiting for a reply as the elevator doors shut.

And with that, Jim was trapped. Alone with Spock, in such a confined space that their bodies were forced to touch. Electricity coursed through Jim’s veins, and only pure adrenaline kept his legs from collapsing.

“Do you know why I’m going to break you today, Mr. Kirk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm, hope that was good? I know, I'm as bad as Spock for leaving you on a cliffhanger. Rest assured, the next chapter will (hopefully) be better.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, there's a few plotholes in the first chapter. Rest assured (if liked) a lot will be explained in Chapter 2. Thanks for reading, and please leave a kudo and all that good stuff if you enjoyed. See you


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